Pathway to Japanese Literature

This essay was presented at a meeting held by the Kiri no Tabikai on November 15, 1936; it merely records thoughts that occurred to me during my toponymic investigations—a personal penchant of mine. However, I believe such perspectives should occasionally be considered when verifying mountain and place names, which is why I decided to publish it in this journal in hopes of providing some modest amusement to readers. Should it prove useful as reference material in any capacity, I would consider that fortunate.

When examining the summary section of the Records of Kai Province, in the entry on district names,

Tsuru District (the Wamyōshō states Tsuruduru. The Fragmentary Fudoki states: "Connected vines." ...). By "connected vines," they referred to how Fuji's foothills extend northward in a continuous chain resembling creeping vines—a dialect expression calls this "mountain ridges and spurs." Later generations replaced the name with the auspicious character for crane (This district contains the Katsura River. Local dialects conflated the readings of *katsura* and *kuzu*, ultimately leading to character substitutions—a phenomenon with numerous other instances.) it states. This so-called *Fragmentary Fudoki* was not a remnant of the *Ancient Fudoki* compiled under the Wadō 6 (713) edict but rather purported fragments of a *Japan Comprehensive National Fudoki*—entirely a later fabrication whose contents scholars had already demonstrated to be largely unreliable. Yet the compilers of *Records of Kai Province* interpreted these “vines” as referring to Fuji’s long northern foothills, positing this as Tsuru District’s origin. They further claimed that the later substitution of the auspicious “crane” character followed the same pattern as Katsura River: just as *katsura* (桂), originally tied to vines (*kuzu*), was phonetically confused and replaced with its homophonic “katsura” character for auspiciousness, so too was “Tsuru” rebranded with the crane ideograph.

However, according to the sole surviving fragment of the *Ancient Fudoki* preserved in Kai Province (to be cited later), which explicitly designates it as “Crane District,” the auspicious crane character had not been substituted by later generations—it had already been in use prior to Wadō [713 CE]. This usage likely influenced compilers when drafting the *Fudoki* during...

[The edict] ordered that all district and village names in the capital region, seven circuits, and provinces be assigned auspicious characters.

Or

All district and village names within the provinces (referring to the civil administration as per the legal codes) shall uniformly employ two-character [names], necessarily selecting auspicious ones.

In compliance with this edict mandating the use of two-character names, they presumably adopted *Tsuru* as an auspicious character out of necessity.
If this were so, the compilers of the *Ancient Fudoki* should logically have employed the two-character name “Tsuru”; yet its persistent use of “Crane District” suggested that despite likely compliance with an imperial decree, they had adhered to conventional usage of the crane character—for the *Fudoki*, by its very nature resembling later compilations, appeared to have maintained prior naming traditions.
Therefore, in poetic compositions and similar contexts—where the crane meaning remained consistently employed even into later eras—it appeared the compilers of *Records of Kai Province* believed the auspicious crane character had been substituted for “vines.”
Those poems are recorded in the *Fugashū* and *Records of Kai Province*.
Among them is one poem in the *Fugashū* by Gon Dainagon Nagaiie,

On the Empress’s Poetry Contest and Chrysanthemum Appreciation

In the realm above clouds, chrysanthemum rows planted—Kai Province
transplanted Tsuru’s small ditches, and lo—they gazed

In the poem that says,

A note to this poem states: "The *Fudoki* records that in Tsuru District of Kai Province there exists Chrysanthemum Mountain; its flowing waters wash chrysanthemums, and those who drink from them attain crane-like longevity," and so forth.

As it stated, this appeared precisely to be a fragment from the *Ancient Fudoki* that explained Crane District’s origin; thus, it could be discerned that the crane character had been in use since antiquity.

Other

To Kai Province I humbly come—Tadamine

For you alone do I go forth, staking my life—
Through Tsuru's famed ditches, a thousand generations secure their span.

Untitled (Rokujō of Hachijō-in)

"For you alone would I entrust ten thousand generations—
In Tsuru's small ditches, young rice shoots are planted."

Ise [sent this] to one who went to Kai

"Your reign—to Tsuru's small ditches I have ventured,
In this lawless age, no space remains for doubt—"

All such examples draw upon this [fragment] to employ the crane's meaning.

The *Records of Kai Province* further presents this folk legend in its section on Tsuru District’s historic sites: "Villagers recount: Since antiquity, two white cranes existed in this district, frequenting watery locales such as Yoshida at the base of Mount Fuji, Akemizu, and Shinobugusa—originally three in number. In the third month of Genroku 11, year of Tora (1698), one crane died. The villagers petitioned the authorities, who ordered it buried in Shimoyoshida’s northern plain; they constructed a mound named Crane Mound, which remains to this day. This, they assert, marks the origin of the district’s name." Yet despite including this account, the compilers still clung to the *Fragmentary Fudoki*’s marginal notes that read "Kunidome" or "Connected Vines."

The term "connected vines" was said to resemble wisteria tendrils, positing that it described how Mount Fuji's ridges extended northward in a long chain—all to be read as "tsuru." In Sōgi's travel diary, he recorded that when viewing Fuji from Hissaka, its southern face appeared steep while its northern foothills stretched long like a prostrate thatched hut; from Ashigarano-tōge Pass too, he noted an identical impression. Since "mountain" carried connotations of lying prone, even when using kana variants like *Fuji* (不尽) or *Fuji* (不時), all retained this sense of prostration—a reading that aligned with "vines" (*fushi*/*tsuru*), as stated. They repeatedly affirmed their support for the connected vines theory. The essay titled *Crane District Crane Feathers Record* in Shokusanjin's *One Word, One Story*...

Tsuru District lies within mountainous terrain, situated north of Mount Fuji. In the seventy-second year of Emperor Kōrei’s reign—the seventh generation of human sovereigns—Emperor Qinshihuang dispatched Xu Fu, who set forth with dozens of youths to enter the sea in search of immortals. The place called Penglai was none other than our Mount Fuji.
Xu Fu, having already arrived and realizing that Qin would soon fall into chaos, remained without returning, ultimately dying here.
Afterwards, there were three cranes—said to be the transformed spirits of Fu and his companions. Those cranes constantly resided in the district; hence it was named [so].

According to this narrative, one of the three cranes died on the twenty-ninth day of the third month of Genroku 11 [1698]. After undergoing inspection by officials, its flesh and wings were presented to the eastern capital while its bones were buried at Fukugen Temple in Shimoyoshida Village—a version differing slightly from that recorded in *Records of Kai Province*.
As for the remaining two cranes, there was no mention of them in the *Records of Kai Province*.
The *Crane Feathers Record* describes how both cranes descended to Yoshida Village in the third month of Kansei 6 [1794], plucking their feathers with their beaks—their fluttering resembling white lotus petals falling—which caused dogs to bark and people to gather; thus they linked their wings and soared into the heavens, ultimately vanishing without a trace. Then, in the first month of the following year, a resident monk of Manpuku Temple in Todoroki Village obtained one of those feathers, prized it as a rarity, and requested Ryūrin’an Gitan to compose this record.
It is not an account worthy of special mention; I have merely introduced it as the next item.
In the Genroku era—notorious for its stringent animal compassion edicts—the burial of a dead crane’s bones can be accepted as reasonable.

Regarding Chrysanthemum Mountain, *Records of Kai Province*

1. Chrysanthemum Mountain lies south of both Ōtsuki and Komabashi Villages. Alternatively, some say clear water springs from the mountainside behind Kōmyōji Temple in Komabashi Village; it flows into the temple grounds, where people draw from it morning and evening—hence they call that mountain Chrysanthemum Mountain.
It is said that on Ōtsuki’s boundary, if one climbs about six chō up the mountain, there stands a place of perilous crags—shatter them, and chrysanthemum patterns appear; some call this spot Chrysanthemum Mountain. Yet which account holds true remains unclear. Since Ōtsuki and Komabashi were originally one village, and the mountains form an unbroken range without distinct boundaries, the entire southern range should presumably be termed Chrysanthemum Mountain.

It states that, and includes the aforementioned Nagaiie’s poem and its annotation. The extant fragments of the *Fudoki* do not contain this passage now; the missing portion must have been lost from the remaining text. The site where clear water gushes forth from the rear mountain of Kōmyōji Temple fits [the description] well—only chrysanthemums are absent. They proposed this theory by likening it to Kōmyōji Temple’s rear mountain—though there was naturally no way to verify its truth—for in later ages, after old traditions had been lost, forcibly attempting to pinpoint its location would inevitably lead one into the pitfall of conflation. However, when examining the *Engishiki*, under the Ministry of Medicine’s section on annual tribute of miscellaneous medicinal herbs from various provinces, it lists twelve varieties of yellow chrysanthemums from Kai Province weighing ten ryō. To be sure, yellow chrysanthemums were also presented as tribute from provinces such as Shimotsuke, Wakasa, Ōmi, Awa, and Sanuki—but in any case, Kai had a connection with chrysanthemums. What exactly this “yellow chrysanthemum” referred to remained unclear due to the lack of a kun reading. According to the *Wamyō Kōi* appendix of the same work,

Yellow chrysanthemum: Various texts do not provide a kun reading.
In Fukae’s *Wamyō*, it is transcribed as Kawara Ohaki (same in *Ishinpō*); in *Junsyō*, as Kawara Yomogi.
*Ishinpō* also records it as “Kiku.”
*Shinsen Jikyō*: Kara Yomogi.
Yasuyori’s *Wamyō* provides no kun reading.

that is, according to *Honzō Wamyō* and *Ishinpō*, we find Kawara Ohaki; *Wamyōshō* gives Kawara Yomogi, while *Shinsen Jikyō* records Kara Yomogi.
Kariya Ekisai annotates in *Annotations on Wamyōshō* that *ohagi* denotes *yomena*, but these all represent Japanese names for chrysanthemums rather than specifically yellow varieties. While they undoubtedly refer to wild chrysanthemum plants, their exact botanical identity remains elusive; I shall therefore await specialist analysis.
The legend of Chrysanthemum Mountain has undoubtedly absorbed elements from Nanyang's Lixian County chrysanthemum water lore.

Let us set aside digressions. Whether Tsuru District truly derives from vines or cranes—I shall leave that to the reader’s judgment. If I were to state my own view, I believe it originates from the Korean word *turu*, meaning “field” or “wilderness.” To address this in due order—as it is necessary to first say a few words about the Baekje people of Tsuru District—I ask that you bear with me and read through the following account.

When examining the *Nihon Shoki*, we find an entry stating that in the winter of Emperor Tenji’s fifth year, over two thousand Baekje men and women were settled in the Eastern Provinces. However, as it only mentions “Eastern Provinces” without specifying any province, it remains unclear whether Kai was among them. The first explicit mention of Kai Province appears in the "Chronicles of Emperor Jitō" with...

On the eighth day of the fifth month of the second year (the first day being Kōgo), they relocated Keishoku Narito of Baekje to Kai Province.

The first instance is found in this entry, followed by an account in the *Shoku Nihongi* dated to the fifth day of the twelfth month in the eighteenth year of Emperor Kanmu’s Enryaku era.

Tomoya Wakushu and Hisanobu Mimiochō, along with one hundred and ninety others from Kai Province, stated: “Our ancestors were originally from Baekje,” and so forth.

As these records demonstrate sufficiently, Baekje people did reside in Kai.

If that was so, where in Kai did they settle? While there exists Koma District—named for Goguryeo people who resided there—there was no Baekje District designated for Baekje settlers.
Though *Records of Kai Province* explains “Koma” as deriving from “horse” (*koma*), citing ancient pastures that produced fine steeds, explicit documentation in national histories confirming Goguryeo people’s presence makes it more appropriate to view this designation—like Baekje District and Koma District in Kawachi Province—as rooted in Goguryeo settlers.

While examples of Baekje Districts indicating Baekje settlement existed in Izumi Province, none were found in Kai; thus requiring investigation through alternative avenues. Fortunately however—on March 15 of Tenpyō Hōji 5 [761 CE] during Emperor Junnin’s reign—there appeared documentation stating:

"Ishimaro of Baekje was granted the surname Fuchibe no Miyatsuko."

This record derived from an earlier imperial edict dated April 4 of Tenpyō-shōhō 9 [757 CE] under Empress Kōken’s rule—four years prior—which declared:

"Regarding those from Goguryeo, Baekje and Silla who have long revered Our sacred governance and assimilated into Our customs—should they petition for surnames—permit all such requests without exception. For registries lacking proper clan names or surnames—being irregular by principle—execute appropriate amendments."

Since there was an imperial edict to this effect, they likely petitioned and were granted the surname.
In ancient times, naturalized immigrants from the Three Kingdoms of Korea and other regions were generally culturally advanced; thus, during periods when our nation maintained deep ties with their homelands, they were highly respected, and some among them were even employed by the imperial court. However, after His Majesty Emperor Tenji’s reign saw the withdrawal of the Japanese government office from Mimana, relations gradually weakened until ultimately, naturalized immigrants came to be disparaged, and many desired to change their surnames—hence this edict was issued.
On the same day as Ishimaro, two individuals from Goguryeo including Kōbu Ōsei were granted the surname Takasato Muraji; eighteen years later, on the seventeenth day of the third month of Hōki 10, Kōra no Ason Fukushin was bestowed the surname Takakura.
Fukushin was from Kōma District in Bushū Province and was awarded the Junior Third Rank.
Twenty years later, on December 5 of Enryaku 18 [799 CE], Baekje people in Kai such as Tomoya Wakushu were granted the surname Ishikawa, while Hisanobu Mimiochō and others received Hiroishino—during this period, naturalized immigrants frequently underwent surname changes.

The *Fuchibe no Miyatsuko* granted to Ishimaro was a surname denoting the ruler or governor of Fuchibe—which could also be viewed as an official title—and in practice, those who held it governed the local populace and territory, with hereditary succession being not uncommon; *Miyatsuko* signified “imperial vassal.”

As for the location of this Fuchibe, upon examining the *Wamyōshō*, there were only two places named Fukuchi in the entire country: one was Fukuchi District in Ina District, Shinano Province, and the other was Fuchibe District in Tsuru District, Kai Province—neither was found in the Kinai region where Baekje people had been numerous.

While it remained unclear whether Baekje people had resided in Shinano Province at that time, given that—as previously stated—they had been numerous in Kai, I believed it would not be erroneous to conclude that Fuchibe, which related to Ishimaro, was located precisely in Tsuru District, and that all Baekje people in Kōshū had resided within this district.

The Fuchibe District of Tsuru District was agreed by all texts to correspond to land centered around present-day Torizawa. In the *Records of Kai Province*:

**Fuchibe District**: Upon examination, the villages flanking Torizawa constituted Fuchibe District. South of Kami-Torizawa Station stood an isolated hill, at whose base lay a small shrine called Fuchibe Gongen—presumably the district’s tutelary shrine. Villagers now enshrine it as a Seven Deities of Good Fortune shrine and call it Fukujū Gongen.

In the Kanbun land survey records, the shrine’s surrounding area being entirely written in kana as “Fukuchi” should be understood as an error. Furthermore, a wooden plaque dated the fifteenth day of the twelfth month of Bun’ei Kiyū [1273] at Komatsu Myōjin Shrine in neighboring Nawaue Village recorded “Kamimura in Fuchibe District, Tsuru District.” South of Torizawa across the Katsura River lay Fujisaki Village—old land surveys noted it as both Fushiji-zaki and Fushizaki, which too should presumably be Fuchibe-zaki. The *Suruga Fudoki* showed variant characters for Mount Fuji written as Fukuchi and Fushi, both to be read as “Fuji.” And so on.

As recorded, it is certain that [the shrine/district] persisted until the Kanbun era. The *Records of Kai Province* states that writing “Fukuchi” in the land survey registers must be recognized as an error, yet provides no reasons for this assertion. The *Suruga Fudoki* is one of the so-called “Sōkoku Fudoki” (Comprehensive Provincial Gazetteers), and, as previously noted, remains a text whose reliability is difficult to uphold. The sole example where Fukuji-dake in Suruga Province appears in the *Hitachi Fudoki* as 福慈 but is seemingly read as Fuji—for this, refer to the section on Mount Fuji in “Regarding Two or Three Mountain Names”—not only cannot be used to dismiss the traditional reading of Fuchibe District in Tsuru District as Fukuchi, recorded since the *Wamyōshō* (Kōzanji manuscript), but it also goes without saying that Fujisaki is clearly a phonetic corruption of Fushiji-zaki. The *Azuma Kagami* entry for the 7th day of the 5th month of Kenryaku 3 [1213 CE] (with the era name changed to Kenpō on the 6th day of the 12th month) also records that Kamada Hyōe no Jō was granted Fuchibe in Kai Province as a reward for meritorious service. It remains impossible to ascertain when exactly the name fell into disuse. When nationwide municipal mergers were conducted in December of Meiji 7 [1874], combining the three villages of Matsuyama, Shinya, and Kamiyoshida at Fuji’s northern foothills into Fuchibe Village constituted a severely misplaced application—perhaps following the lead of *Kokushi*’s compilers, who conflated Fuchibe with Fuji—yet they still preserved its old reading as “Fukuchi.”

The Korean reading of Fuchibe would likely have been Pokuchi or Pukuchi; if we read 地 (chi) as tan, it would have been Pokutan. Kudara (Baekje) was written as 百済, 伯済, or 百残, with Hyakuzan (百残) being considered the oldest form. Since 百 (*hyaku*) and 伯 (*haku*) were pronounced *paik*, 残 (*zan*) as *chan*, and 済 (*sai*) as *chei*, the Baekje people may have been granted the surname Fuchibe due to its phonetic resemblance to the Korean pronunciation of Baekje—just as the Goguryeo immigrant Ansei received Takasato Muraji and Kōra no Ason Fukushin was bestowed Takakura. Goguryeo (Koma) originally referred to Goguryeo; given that Takasato was pronounced *Kakuri* and Takakura as *Kakura*, Dr. Kanesawa had already noted how these mirrored the phonetic elements of their homeland’s name. The presence of the "kaku" sound in *taka* was evident from how the *Manyōshū* used 高山 (high mountain) to represent Kaguyama. Whether the land became known as Fuchibe because Ishimaro was granted that surname, or whether he received the title Fuchibe no Miyatsuko because he resided in an already-named Fuchibe—both scenarios having historical precedents—defied immediate determination. However, I conjectured it was likely the former; if so, Fuchibe Gongen might have enshrined the spirits of Ishimaro or his ancestors.

On the other hand, the *puku* in Fuchibe corresponded to the Korean *hūku* or *huku*—meaning “earth”—while *chi* in Mongolian signified “person,” though in both Japan and Korea it had become an honorific title for powerful deities or noble individuals.
Ikazuchi (Thunder God), Kagutsuchi (Fire God), Kukunochi (Ancestor of Trees), Sonakashichi (Sona Kakushichi, of Mimana), Momarishichi (Moma Rishichi, Silla people)—examples such as these were countless.
Thus Fuchibe came to signify an earth spirit, taking on a meaning akin to Haniyasu-no-Kami—our nation’s deity of soil—or Kunitama-no-Kami, which might be understood as the spirit of the land itself.
Of course, each province had its own land spirit—these were by no means confined to a single deity—yet all shared the common purpose of venerating the spiritual essence of their respective territories.
Fuchibe Gongen—enshrined by Ishimaro as the spiritual essence of his territory—might be considered a deity of far narrower scope than the land spirits.
I think this perspective might be more accurate given that shrines related to Fuchibe existed in various locations—for instance, Fuchibe Hachiman in Kawarabe Village, Koma District (present-day Nirasaki Town), was likely originally Fuchibe Gongen.
If one were to revere Mount Fuji as Fuchibe-dake—interpreting it as the nation’s spiritual guardian—then despite the discrepancy between *chi* and *shi*, it would not seem unreasonable to write it as 福慈 (Fuchi) yet pronounce it as Fuji.
Of course, the character 福 (*fuku*) alone could never be pronounced as “fu.”
If this were the case, the etymology of Fuji would derive from Korean—but that could not have occurred any earlier than Emperor Tenji’s reign.
Was this truly the case?

Furthermore, in Tama District’s Mitake Shrine there was a subordinate shrine called Kofuku-sha, as recorded in the *Newly Compiled Records of Musashi Province*.
Kofuku-sha was situated in the same vicinity (behind the main shrine), where Ōkunitama-no-Mikoto was enshrined.
Villagers nearby called this the deity of cultivation; they said that if one reverently took soil from before the shrine and scattered it across fields, the five grains would surely flourish. As offerings of gratitude, they would bring soil from their own lands to present at the shrine.

and the *Musashi Meisho Zue* (Famous Sights of Musashi Illustrated) stated:

Kofuku-sha (facing west; cypress bark roofing.
Located behind the main shrine.) The enshrined deity was Ōkunitama-no-Mikoto.
Upon examination, this deity had seven names; though also called Ōkuninushi-no-Mikoto, in truth it was Ōnamuchi-no-Mikoto. As this deity governed earth’s virtues, it was revered as the god of soil and grain.

The text continued similarly in the *Fudoki-kō* (Gazetteer), largely corresponding to the *Gunson-shi* (District and Village Records), which recorded:

There was Kofuku-sha, which enshrined Haniyama Hime-no-Kami; however, the Mitake-san records stated it as Ōkunitama-no-Mikoto.
Beside the shrine, a depression measuring over two ken had formed. When they took this soil and scattered a small amount in their fields, it warded off insect damage; since all worshippers took it home, such holes came to be.

As recorded, these accounts all evoked the notion that they enshrined spirits of the land. When one appended the element ko (大), meaning “great,” above Fukuchi, did the crucial chi become detached? In the northwest of Uenohara lay Torafuse (now Kobuse), and in Akiyama there was Kofukushi. Both were read as *Kofukushi* and related to *Kofuku*; shrines were believed to have originally existed there, though their precise locations remained undetermined. The shift from *chi* to *shi* occurred due to the interchangeability of dental and palatal sounds; given examples like *shijimu* and *chijimu*, one could not definitively assert such transformations were entirely nonexistent. In the Kobuki area of Shiromaru Village along the Tama River, only a small shrine to the mountain deity remained extant; it appeared connected to Kofuku. The area known as Fuefuki along the Minami-Akigawa River had now been corrupted to *Uzushiki*, but it was originally *Usohuku*. Given this, one could readily surmise that the character for “flute” (笛) had been assigned to *Uso* from the song of the Japanese bush warbler (*Uso*). This *Fuku*, too, seemed to bear connection to good fortune.

The Ōki Myōjin Shrine in Torizawa recorded in the *Records of Kai Province* has been renamed Fuchibe Shrine but shares with Ōki Shrine in Kawagami District, Ise Province an unknown enshrined deity.
I conjecture this might enshrine Ishimaro himself—or if not, perhaps his ancestors’ spirits.
Yet no materials exist to substantiate this.
The mountain’s fan-like shape earned it the name Ogiyama (“Fan Mountain”), where a deity was enshrined as Ogi Myōjin (“Fan Deity”)—later changed to Ōki—or conversely, Ōki Myōjin (“Great Tree Deity”) gave rise to Ōkiyama (“Great Tree Mountain”), later altered to Ogi; either way, this remains an unresolved enigma.
From Anashi Pass’s base, its form indeed resembles an unfurled fan—yet...
Notably, Silla had an ancient place name written 𧮾子 (“Ōki”), while Baekje had Ōkura (“Great Ridge”).
If Baekje immigrants transplanted their homeland’s toponyms here—was this necessity or topographical resemblance?
Lacking knowledge of how to read *Ōki* or *Ōkura*, or what 𧮾子 signifies—be it synonym or semantic loan—I must set this matter aside.

As it had been established earlier that Tsuru District was a settlement for Baekje people, readers would naturally accept that Korean-derived place names remained there as a matter of course; accordingly, I inferred that "Tsuru" originated not from mountain ridges but from the Korean *turu*, meaning "field" or "wilderness." And since all texts concurred that the old districts and villages recorded in the *Wamyōshō* were located near Uenohara and that Tsuru District corresponded to the area around Ōtsuru Village, the expanse of wilderness encompassing these locations was likely Tsuru's original homeland. Consequently, the survival of names like Tsurukawa and Tsurushima to this day was by no means coincidental. The Katsura River, contrary to what the *Records of Kai Province* claimed about the character for kudzu shifting to katsura, instead derived from Ōtsurugawa (Great Crane River). By adding *ka*—which carried the meaning of "great"—to *tsuru*, it became *Katsuru*, which later transformed into *Katsura*. This paralleled how plains were called *baru* in parts of Kyushu and Oshu.

The place name Tsuru is abundant in Kyushu—specifically in the Kikuchi River basin spanning Tamana and Kamamoto districts of Higo Province, and across the Ōita River, Ōno River, and Nakae River basins covering five districts of Bungo Province: Ōita, Naoe, Ōno, Minami-Kaifu, and Kita-Kaifu. Here we find Tsuru, Imazuru, Soegazuru, Ōzuru, Sazuru, Ozuru, Shizuru, Kuwazuru, Kuwatsuru, Onozuru, and Kozuru—with over ten locations simply called Tsuru. Particularly in the lower reaches of the Ōno River, there are villages named Ozuru, Ōzuru, and Tsuruse—and finally, near the estuary lies Tsurumisaki Town—a progression that appears to naturally illustrate the topography and evokes an intriguing pattern.

Incidentally, in Korea, cranes are apparently called *Tsurumi*; it may be that places like Tsurumi Town derived their names directly from this term. The *Engishiki* lists Tsurumishima Shrine in Wakae District, Kawachi Province, and Tsurumi Shrine in Shibukawa District; whether these too are related to cranes must await future research.

To briefly summarize what has been discussed thus far: Baekje people had resided in Kai.
This land was Tsuru District; it therefore follows that the survival of Korean-derived place-names there should not be regarded as remotely questionable.
Once you understand this foundation, subsequent matters resolve themselves with simplicity.

In Tsuru District and its surrounding areas, there existed a considerable number of mountains bearing the name Maru.
When I tentatively listed them in Tsuru District,

Ōhata Village: Honsha-ga-Maru

Maki Village: Kondōmaru Chinzei-ga-Maru Ōtani-ga-Maru Ōkura Takamaru Shiroya-no-Maru Akeya-no-Maru Toriya-no-Maru Marudake

and others, and in Sagami Province,

Nakagawa Village: Aze-ga-Maru

Aone Village: Hinokibōru Maru

Sanogawa Village: Kayamaru

and others.
Even if these names derived from their summits being round, the sheer number of such cases was so great that anyone would have found it peculiar.
However, if one noted that these regions had been developed early by Baekje and Goguryeo people, a suspicion might have arisen that these terms could derive from the language introduced by those settlers.
In fact, *maru* was none other than a Korean word meaning “mountain.”

In present-day Korea, mountains were called *moi*.
However, in ancient times the term had been *mori*; this appeared related to the Ainu word *mori*, meaning "small mountain." One ought to consider the prevalence of mountains named *Nanmori* in the Ōu region.
There existed cases where *mori* had shifted to *moro*, but no examples came to mind where *mo* had transformed into *ma*.
According to Dr. Kanesawa, even now on Jeju Island, mountains isolated in flatlands were referred to as *maru*.
It was said that the Japanese word for “mountain” (*yama*) derived from an Austronesian term *iemā* (meaning “forest” or “thicket”).

In Korea, the word for "head" is *mōri* or *mori*; this was likely the same term as the ancient name for "mountain," *mori*, used interchangeably for both head and mountain. In Ainu, *kimui* refers to mountains while also denoting the very crown of the head. While our practice of referring to a mountain as "the head of something" differs somewhat in nuance, it shares a fundamental connection with the Ainu usage. It goes without saying that *Moi* represents a transformation of *Mori*.

*Mure* may have originated from *Moro* transforming into *Muro* and then *Mure*; examples where mountains are read as *Mure* appear frequently in *The Chronicles of Japan* and *The Continued Chronicles of Japan*.

Hekishizan, Kosazan, Tanatetsuzan, Obisan, Kurezan, Nisan, Kyosōzan, Dojurinoshizan, Ninjorizan

These all represent mountains in Han lands.
In Emperor Saimei's poem:

Upon Omure's peak in Imaki—even the clouds

Drift white and downward—what cause for lament?

The phrase "をむれかうへ" denotes the summit of a small hill and demonstrates that even in our ancient era mountains were called *mure*, yet it still bears a distinct Korean linguistic influence.
Imaki originated when Achi no Omi, during Emperor Ōjin's reign, led seventeen affiliated districts in submitting to Yamato authority and received Hinakura Village; this settlement of new immigrants produced the place name Imaki—present-day Takachi District was formerly Imaki District.
Emperor Yūryaku's

Upon Yamato’s Omura peak lies spread...

The imperial poem His Majesty deigned to compose appears in the *Kojiki* as:

Upon Mie Plain at Omurogatake lies spread...

As recorded there—though this naturally refers to a different mountain from Imaki’s Omure—if *mura* indeed signifies “mountain,” then *mure*, *mura*, and *muro* would have been used interchangeably. Thus Kii’s Muro District would mean “the district of mountains.”

Mure occurs as frequently as Tsuru in Bungo, Kyushu. Let me cite several examples:

Nōmureyama Otonomureyama Inomureyama Tsugamureyama Tsunomureyama Nakatsumureyama Hanamureyama

and others; considering that there are also a not insignificant number of village names bearing "Mure" elsewhere, Tsuru and Mure appear to share a relationship as inseparable as shadow and form.
Of course, there were other place names called Mure not only in provinces such as Suō, Sanuki, Yamato, and Kii, but also in Mitaka Village outside Tokyo City—and there were even some within the city itself.

*Shinpen Musashi Fudoki Kō* states:

Tama District, Mure Village

Although no records remain regarding when development began, it is said that an individual named Takahashi Tosho came from Kogure Village in Niiza District and initiated [the settlement].

Niiza District was formerly called Silla District—a region documented in the "Chronicle of Empress Kōken" as having hosted naturalized Silla immigrants who were settled in Musashi Province's remote areas, where the first Silla District administration was established.

Furthermore, *Shinpen Edo-shi* states:

*Murewi-no* Plain

Elderly residents recount: From the vicinity of present-day Otansu-chō (Koishikawa Tansu-chō) to the borders of Ōtsuka and Itabashi, all was reportedly called Murewi-no Plain in antiquity; thus, between southern Kanasugi Village and northern Fukiage Village lay what must have been a vast plain.

Observing the nearby presence of the place name Sashigatani, one could imagine a settlement of Korean people who practiced slash-and-burn agriculture there.
The practice of referring to treetops as *ure* or *ura*—terms denoting elevated places—likely originated from this *mure*; today, *ura* has become the predominant form.
The place name Kawaura probably signifies “the river’s end.”
The *Daigenkai* dictionary explains that *ure* derives from a contraction of *urae* (treetop branches), though it offers no commentary on *ura* itself.

Taking examples from the Japanese language，shifts from ma to mo appeared commonplace；Dr．Ōshima argued that moto （元，origin）derived from mato （真処，true place），monaka （最中，center）from manaka （真中，true middle），and mono （物，thing）from mana （真名，true name）．
It may be that the Korean term for “mountain，” maru，was the oldest form，having shifted to moro，mori，and moi—with this most ancient term maru possibly preserved on Jeju Island．
The phonetic interchangeability of mu and mo was recognized through examples such as mukuge and mokuge （rose of Sharon／hibiscus），muguccho and moguccho （marsh snail），mukumuku （sprouting vigorously），and mokumoku （billowing thickly）．Similarly，between u and mu，there were instances like muma and uma （horse），mume and ume （plum tree），munagi and unagi （eel），mube and ube （Akebia quinata）．

Having previously omitted this, I will supplement it here: even in Kai Province, mountains bearing the name *Mori* were quite numerous. A mere glance at *Records of Kai Province* revealed Ishimori, Hidenmori, Takemori, Nakatsumori, and Mizugamori in Yamanashi District; and Yoshimori, Kuromori, Ishimori, Kirimori, Iimori, Ōimori, Hanaremori, Karasumori, Moriyama, Suzugamori, and Takamori in Koma District. Were one to meticulously survey historical documents, one would likely have discovered even more.
These were primarily small hills that aligned well with the Ainu word *mori*; moreover, this term was not obsolete, as elderly hunters in Kōshū still frequently used it—for instance, hunters near Amagabata called Zarugatake “Zarugamori.”

In Tsuru District, there were many mountains bearing *maru* in their names, but those with *mure* were exceedingly few, numbering a mere four peaks.

Dōshi Village: Ōmureyama, Tonnōmune

Nishihara Village: Ōmureyama (Gongen-san)

Yusuhara Village: Kosegoyama

Kosegoyama lies south of Kobusezawa.
I had heard its elevation was △542.9.
Takeda-kun informed me that Tonnōmune is now written as Tori no Mune and called Ton’nomune.
Usofuku and Tonomure—the sheer extremity of their phonetic corruption proved truly astonishing, standing as a prime example of why toponymic research presents such difficulties.

Ōmureyama and Mount Fuji (from Yakeyama)

Although mountains were few, shrines enshrining Ōmure Gongen were instead remarkably numerous; they were divided into two groups north and south roughly along the Dōshi Mountain Range, with those in the south centered around Ōmureyama—also known by the alternate name Fujigakushi—and those in the north centered around Ōmureyama commonly referred to as Gongen-san.
Namely:

Ōmuro Gongen and Nagahata Seihachiman enshrined together (located at Takenomoto). Shrine precincts consisted of 192 *tsubo* of tax-exempt land. The shrine contained seven divine mirrors and a golden Daikoku statue—a standing figure measuring 1 *sun* and 8 *bu* in height—along with one sacred sword, among other items.

Ōmuro Gongen (located in Kubo). Ōmuro Gongen (located in Ōwataru). The same (located in Tsukiyono). Shrine precincts covered 100 *tsubo*, etc.
The shrine priest was Satō Gondayū.
Ōmuro was the name of a mountain located southeast of the main village (Dōshi Village); being a high peak, it obscured the eastern face of Mount Fuji, hence in Musashi it was called Fujigakushi (Fuji-hider).
On this mountain stood a shrine; it was called Ōmuro Gongen.
(The above is from *Records of Kai Province*.)

Sodehiradake spanned approximately three and a half *ri* from base to summit, with Ōmuro Gongen enshrined atop the mountain. As it was the highest peak in this village, people also called it Aone-yama. They said lingering snow would not melt completely unless it was midsummer May.

Ōmuro Shrine. Village-owned.
(Aone Village)

Ōmuro Shrine (two): One serves as the village’s tutelary shrine, with its annual festival on September 20th; both enshrine Yawata Mountain Deity in the same sanctuary.
One [shrine] has a large cedar tree serving as its sacred tree (about seven arm spans in circumference); both are owned by the villagers.

(Nakagawa Village)

Ōmuro Shrine: A round mirror (approximately six and a half *sun* in diameter) contained a sacred object (about three *sun* in length) cast within it, bearing an inscription from Genroku 11 [1698]. (It read: “Ōmuro Gongen of Miyahara Village, Sagami Province; Genroku 11, Tiger Year, Eleventh Month, Auspicious Day; Shrine Priest Miyazaki Tsushimamori.”) According to the priest’s account, they had conducted rituals of the former Nakagawa Village’s Ōmuro Gongen Shrine at this site; later, as it became the original location, they enshrined the same deity here.
(Yubure Village) (The above is from *Shinpen Sagami Fudoki Kō*.)

This represents the southern group where the character 室 was assigned to *mure*—presumably read as *muro*. In contrast, the northern group predominantly used the two characters 勢籠 for *mure*, though the reasoning behind this orthographic choice remained unclear. Could this have been a wordplay where Ōsegoyama (“Great Gathering Mountain”) became Ōmure (“Great Group”) through phonetic association?

Ōmuro Shrine (Chigira Village)

Ōmure Shrine (Yoshino-juku)

Osegorō (Oosei Irou) Gongen Shrine: The enshrined deity is said to be Yamato Takeru no Mikoto.
(Sanogawa Village)

Taishitsu Gongen Shrine (Kobuchi Village) (The above is from *Shinpen Sagami Fudoki Kō*.)

Ōmuro Gongen: Shrine precincts 1 se 15 bu (approx. 122.5 m²) (Kami-Tsurushima Village).

Ōsegorō Gongen (located at Tochi-ki). Small shrine, shrine land 1 se 10 bu (approx. 122.5 m²) (Komamiya Village).

Ōmuro Gongen: Shrine precincts 35 tsubo (Koshino Village)

Ōsegorō Gongen Shrine (located at the peak of Ōse Taki Mountain on the boundary of Nishihara, Asakawa, and Nodajiri). The shrine priest was the headman of Wami Village; the shrine’s land in Wami Village comprised two se and bu of lower fields, though untaxed. The ascent from the headman’s house to the southwestern mountain spanned one ri and twenty chō. This deity employed seventy-five dogs; when someone requested these dogs, they would come to borrow them at the homes of farmers or headmen in nearby villages. Upon receiving a talisman and returning home, the dogs invariably arrived to guard the household’s fields and dwellings—though their form remained invisible to human eyes. If one prepared feed using kiri fire and offered it until the hired period concluded, the dogs were said to consume it.

Inari Daimyōjin: Said to be the tutelary deity of Ashigaki Village... Four subordinate shrines (Omori no Miya, Ōsegorō Gongen, and others).

Ōsegorō Gongen (Ōkura Village). Shrine precincts: tax-exempt land owned by Suisen-an.

Ōikago Gongen (located at Hehainiari). Shrine precincts: tax-exempt land. Shrine priest: Ugenta.
(The above is from *Records of Kai Province*.)

From the distribution pattern described above, one could deduce there were two centers of worship; however, while we cannot ascertain whether one was enshrined before the other or if they were established simultaneously, it remains reasonable to imagine this was a major shrine deeply revered by nearby residents.
Yet its enshrined deity stayed entirely unknown.
The *Engishiki* lists Mure Shrines in Settsu Province’s Mishima District and Ise Province’s Taki District, and though place names like Mure Village persist, they offer no explanation of their deities—likely because antiquity had already erased their traditions. Only Sanogawa Village annotates Ōsegorō with the reading “Ōhoseirō”; this reflects how forgetting *segoro*’s original reading as *mure* led to altering “Ō” (great) to “Ō” (king) and forcibly linking it to Yamato Takeru no Mikoto—a theory whose implausibility becomes evident at a glance.
Moreover, since Ōmureyama’s existence likely held little tangible impact—whether beneficial or detrimental—on nearby residents, one could scarcely argue they venerated the mountain itself.
In my view, this likely constituted a vestige of indigenous faith in the Dragon King—that is, Ryūjin (the eight-headed serpent)—inherited unchanged by newcomer inhabitants.
From place names like Ara, Ure, Ure, and Toriya in Baekje and Silla, we may infer—as per Dr. Tsuboi’s theory—that a primitive dragon deity worship persisted among some of these people.
Ara and Ure were Chinese characters borrowed to convey Korean pronunciations *Arā* and *Urā*, denoting none other than the giant serpent—the Dragon King.
That some among our ancient peoples also revered this dragon deity was something I had previously discussed in an essay titled “On Two or Three Mountain Names.”
Whether Baekje immigrants introduced this faith from their homeland or assimilated it with indigenous beliefs remains unclear; however, given mountains’ profound connection to the Dragon King and *mure*’s interrelation with *ure* and *ura*, it may be that within the linguistically sophisticated Baekje concept of *mure*—a term encompassing both mountains and the Dragon King—lay the foundation for naming peaks *Ōmure* (Great Group) and extending this to the enshrined deity itself.
What particularly strengthened my conviction that Ōmure Gongen represented Ryūjin was precisely Wami’s Ōsegorō Gongen account.
Shrines still issuing wolf talismans or bearing wolf-messenger legends—from Mitsumine and Ryōjin Shrines in Musashi’s Chichibu District to Ōkawa Shrine in Tango’s Kasa District, Tamaki Shrine in Yamato’s Yoshino District, Yabu Shrine in Tajima’s Yabu District, Nangū Shrine in Mino’s Fuwa District, Yamazumi Shrine in Tōtōmi’s Suchi District, and Kinokayama Gongen in Bitchū’s Imazu—regardless of their current principal deities, must have originally worshiped the Dragon King so long as they employ wolves. For these wolves were none other than Ryūjin itself: having transformed under temporal influences while retaining its pest-warding function against boars and deer, it became an attendant to later-enshrined great deities. Thus I concluded Ōmure Gongen equated to the Dragon King.

The above constitutes my personal views regarding Maru and Mure.

As a digression, I would like to touch upon two or three place names.

Many Stone Age ruins have been discovered along the banks of the Katsura River and its tributaries.
Among these, there may be some of Ainu origin as well as place names that appear Ainu-like; however, since they are likely severely distorted phonetically, I find it difficult to arrive at even a personally satisfactory interpretation.
Villages such as Kamishimo-Hanasaki and Shimoshimo-Hanasaki—which protrude prominently toward the confluence of the Katsura and Sasago Rivers—derive their names from their location at the tip of a mountain spur, a fact immediately apparent at a glance; yet such clear-cut examples remain relatively few.

Tomioka: A village along the Akiyama River. Initially, I thought it might derive from the Ainu term Tomuwatsuka (shining water), but this actually combines Tomu (water) with Bukau (hill) or Ukā (shore facing the sea)—meaning a river along a plateau—and belongs to the South Seas language family.
If we suppose it to mean a plateau along the river, the vocabulary belongs to the South Seas language family while the grammar is Japanese; consequently, this would place it in a somewhat later period.

Sunazearashi and Wakayanagi appear to be Ainu-derived terms, but no satisfactory interpretation can be established.
The fact that it is read as Suarashi rather than Susarashi could indicate an emphasis on arashi; if this is indeed the case, Arachīē might refer to the Dragon King deity. If su is taken as an honorific derived from shi, it would become Dragon King-sama; if su denotes superlative quality, it would become Dragon King Grand Deity; if su signifies riverbank, it would indicate a shore where the Dragon King was enshrined—thereby suggesting that shrines to this deity once existed along the Katsura or Dōshi Rivers.
The susa in Suarashi, like the susa in Susanoo-no-Mikoto, constitutes an honorific title venerating the dragon deity as a fearsome and majestic god; however, this appellation came into use in a somewhat later period.
Sekirō Mountain was originally Sekiseirō Mountain; when it came to be read with its on’yomi pronunciation as Sekiseirō, the sei was dropped, resulting in Sekirō—wouldn’t you agree? Its rock formations are indeed perfectly suited for enshrining the Dragon King deity.

Se (rapids): This is a Polynesian term that evolved from *iha* (rock) through *isa* and *ise* to *se*, referring to rocks submerged in water—either fully or with only their tops visible—that create ripples and waves around them. In my view, such locations in rivers would be selected as fording points; therefore, place names containing *se* indicate that those sites were fording locations, which later likely came to be used as ferry crossings as well. Yose, Katse, Shise, Kyōse, Tsuruse—in this vicinity, they do seem to fit quite aptly.

Kuwa: A name given to relatively gentle slopes in mountainous regions or valleys, though its etymology remains unclear; I wonder if it might derive from the Chiam language’s *kuhai* (basin, plateau). There are Ōkuwa, Oto Kuwa, Kuwanishi, and Kuwakubo, among others, and in Asama’s Rokurigahara lies Ōkuwa Village.

Torizawa: The 鳥 (*tori*) likely derives from the Korean *toru* (stone).

Tsunari: Though read as *Tsunashi*, its original pronunciation appears to have been *Tsunaru*; *naru* means "ferry crossing" in Korean. It was likely that initially only the character 成 (*naru*) existed; perhaps the character 津 (*tsu*), bearing equivalent meaning, was appended later to form a two-character name.

Henpai: This may be a corruption of *pahoi* or *paūi* (both signifying "rock"). *Hai* remains particularly prevalent in western Japan as a designation for reefs. The Tobō Rock found in Hihara and Chichibu's Akasawa likely constitutes another term related to this pattern.

Bonhori: If this name originated from Han ("person") poru ("village") through phonetic corruption to Honpori and Bonbori, then Henbori ("human settlement") in the upper reaches of the Minami-Akigawa River would best preserve its original meaning.
The practice of calling newly developed villages Nihibori or Nitsupori until the early Tokugawa period was thought to represent a vestige of this naming tradition.
This could also be considered a phonetic shift from Nihibari ("newly cultivated land").
However, the meaning differed slightly.
The former referred to a newly developed village, while the latter signified newly developed land.

The upper reaches of the Bonhori River's Sen'gasawa—that is, Sen (Waterfall) Valley—derived its name from *sen*, a Korean term originally denoting corridor-shaped rock cliffs. However, since such locations typically contained waterfalls, *sen* came to be used to refer to waterfalls themselves—a semantic shift thought to have occurred after the term's introduction to our country.

Akigawa: In ancient Korean, children were called *Aki*; today it is *Afi* or *Ahi*, while in Manchuria and Mongolia it is *Ako*.

In our country as well, there exists an example from antiquity where children were called *Aki*—specifically, when Emperor Ōjin bestowed Lady Kaminaga of Hyūga upon Prince Ōsasagi.

Izanagi, no niha tsumi ni, hiru tsumi ni, et cetera.

The august song that was sung appears in the *Kojiki* as follows:

Izakodomo, no niha tsumi ni, hiru tsumi ni, et cetera.

Thus it becomes evident that *aki* was synonymous with "child." Furthermore, when Prince Inishiki was defeated by Takeuchi Sukune and threw himself into the Seta River alongside his general Isachi Sukune...

Izanagi, Isachi Sukune, Tamakiharu, et cetera.

...they sang.

The addition here of *Iza my lord* as a translation was mistaken; however much affection a lord might express toward subordinates, the term “my lord” would never be used in this context—it must instead be “my child.” *Ako* was, needless to say, also widely used in our country. Thus, Akigawa means “child river”—that is to say, a small river—and therefore comes to be called Akikawa in contrast to the main stream of the Tama River. To be sure, Akigawa’s ancient name was Akiru. This combines *Aki* with *nari*—an old Korean term for river—where *nari* underwent phonetic corruption into *nai* (the modern Korean term), *ni*, *nu*, and *ru*, thus forming *Akiru*, which likely became a place name. It might also be considered that Akiru derived from Akimuru—with the addition of *muru* (a term applicable to both water and rivers). At the confluence of the Tama River and Akigawa River, there once existed Ogawa District; even now, Ogawa Village retains vestiges of its former name. In Japanese, *wo* carries the meaning of “small”; thus, Wokaha is none other than Akikaha. I find it noteworthy that Sarugyūyō and two other Baekje immigrants who were residents here were granted the surname Ogawa no Miyatsuko on the same date—the fifteenth day of the third month of Tenpyō Hōji 5 (761)—as the aforementioned Ishimaro. Furthermore, Akiyama River’s ancient name was also Akigawa, which corresponds to the Akigawa of the Katsura River; as for the Akigawa that flows through Shimoichi Town in Yoshino District, Yamato Province, and empties into the Yoshino River—this is the Akigawa of the Yoshino River.
(Shōwa 12–3 [1937–1938], *Journey Through the Mist*)